


See Us As You Want To

by MarzgaPerez



Category: Game of Thrones (TV), The Breakfast Club (1985)
Genre: Alternate Universe - The Breakfast Club Fusion, Angry Jon Snow, F/M, Language, M/M, Teenage Drama, Teenage Rebellion, Theon is a Tease
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-17
Updated: 2018-03-04
Packaged: 2019-02-03 11:51:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12747747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarzgaPerez/pseuds/MarzgaPerez
Summary: Imagining a few GoT characters in the John Hughes universe: Podrick as Brian (the brain), Brienne as Allison (the basket case), Jaime as Andrew (the athlete), Theon as Claire (the princess, or prince in this case), and Jon as Bender (the criminal).





	1. Chapter 1

_**The Drop Off** _

"Gods. Why couldn't you get me out of this?"

"And why couldn't you keep your cock out of that girl? Or at least put it in her somewhere other than school grounds?"

Theon cringed. He hated to hear his father use the word "cock." Besides, he didn't have the story quite right. Theon got detention for skipping school to go sailing. Easier to let Balon believe what he wanted.

“Oh well. We Greyjoys can't help but succumb to temptation, eh?"

"Uh, yeah. Sure, Dad."

—————

"Let this be the last time. You’re a Payne, dammit. Now, get out of the car, and learn something today.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Podrick opened the door and slowly walked into the school with his shoulders slumped inward. 

—————

"You really are a dumbass, Jaime. I could see your brother pulling this kind of crap, but you're better than this. Or so I thought."

“That's the same thing you said yesterday."

"And I'll keep saying it until you stop pissing your future away. I'm counting on you to make a name for yourself. They're not going to give that athletic scholarship to a delinquent. Shape up, son."

"Yes, sir."

Jaime didn't see the point in arguing any further or pointing out that the reason he was in this mess was because he was trying to please his father. It was impossible to make Tywin Lannister happy.

—————

"Are you sure this is where you're supposed to be today?"

“Mmm-hmm.”

Brienne was about to get out of the car when Mr. Tarth slammed on the brakes. A young man crossed in front of the station wagon.

"Watch it! Idiot! Do you know him?"

“Mrmrmm.” Brienne exited the car, mumbling something incoherent and slamming the door behind her. She followed Jon Snow into the school.

_**The Library**_

Why? Why? Why had he brought that sword to school? And why did Mr. Thorne pick that particular day for a locker search? Oh, the look of disappointment on his mother's face. First it was the "F" in shop class and now this Saturday detention.

Looking around the room at the others, Podrick grew a bit worried about whether he would make it out of the day unscathed. There was Brienne Tarth who was seated behind him. She was notorious for wearing armor to school. Actual armor. What a lunatic. Today, she was clad in a heavy winter coat with faux fur lining the hood. Her shortish blonde hair looked like limp spaghetti noodles sprouting out of her head.

Seated in front of him were two of the "richies" of Westeros High - Jaime Lannister, all-star athlete, and Theon Greyjoy, one of the more popular kids in the school. A real ladies man, some would say. What had they done to land themselves in detention?

It was really the presence of Jon Snow that had Podrick worried. That guy was a loose cannon. He'd already made Pod switch tables, and he clearly had some beef with Theon and Jaime. Or maybe everyone. He also seemed to be plotting something against Mr. Thorne. 

At exactly 7am, Mr. Thorne stood in front of the room to address the group. "Alright, listen up, girls. Clearly, you all need discipline, or you wouldn’t be here. School policy keeps me from putting you through any physical rigor, so I guess you'll have to exercise whatever’s left of your brains. I want you to write an essay describing who you think you are. Got that?” Mr. Throne had his arms crossed and was glaring at them, just waiting for someone to mouth off.

“I can already tell that Snow will need some assistance with this. I’m not sure how he passed second grade. Nobody better lift a finger to help him...or you'll be back here with me next Saturday."

And to that remark, Jon Snow lifted a very specific finger at Mr. Thorne. Jaime snickered, and Theon rolled his eyes. Brienne let out a squeal and pulled her hood over her face.

“Guess I’ll see you next Saturday, Snow. Let that be a warning to the rest of you.”

As Mr. Thorne turned to leave, Pod put his head down on the table and wished he could be anywhere else. How could he manage to stay out of trouble with this crew?

Better to start on the essay that Mr. Thorne had assigned them. He looked up to see if anyone else was working on it. Brienne was cleaning her finger nails with a small knife while Jaime and Theon exchanged looks of sheer boredom.

And then Pod noticed Jon moving towards the front of the library, sticking his head out into the hallway. He made an announcement about needing more privacy and proceeded to remove the screw from the door, which slammed shut.


	2. Chapter 2

_**The Stand Off** _

Jon snickered as Alliser Thorne tried to prop the door open with a chair. Fail. Mr. Thorne called Jaime over to help him drag the magazine rack to the door. Another fail.

He came back into the room with fire in his eyes. Mr. Thorne couldn’t stand having his authority tested, not by some low-life, criminal reject.

“Give me the screw, Snow!”

“Could you at least take me to dinner first?”

“I’ll do you one even better. That’s another Saturday with me, Snow.”

“I’ll bring the wine. Maybe some candles.”

“And another one. Are you finished?”

Jon looked around the room and briefly met Theon’s gaze. He was motioning for Jon to stop.

“Just getting started...sir.”

“Great, we’ll keep going. Another Saturday here with me.”

“I’m flattered that you want to spend so much time with me.”

“Gee, Snow. You’re really impressing these people. What’s that make now? A whole month of Saturdays?”

“Why not make it two...sir?”

Mr. Thorne started to open his mouth but then paused, wondering if this was some kind of ploy to make him look stupid. But then he decided that this was just Snow backing himself into a corner.

“Done. Better here with me than in prison, eh?”

Jon felt his rage about to boil over, but he managed to keep it inside until after the pompous blowhard had sauntered out of the room.

“Fuck you!” The sound echoed throughout the library, and Jon hoped it was heard outside the door.

_**The Half Nelson** _

It seemed like they’d been there for days, but only a few hours had passed. Theon kept thinking about what had landed him in detention. He had taken the fall so that Robb Stark didn’t get in trouble too, confessing that he had urged Robb to cut class and go sailing. It was his boat, his idea, and his sacrifice of a Saturday in detention when he could have been at the country club.

“How about it, Greyjoy? Do you like your parents?”

Theon wasn’t sure why Jon Snow had decided to interrogate him. Maybe out of boredom. Or jealousy. They’d always kept their distance from one another. Robb said his cousin was misunderstood, but Theon took him for a misguided loser.

“They’re okay, I guess.”

“Who do you like better?”

“Dunno. My dad thinks he’s a big shot, and my mom basically does whatever he says. I’d go live with my sister Yara if I could. My parents tend to pit me against each other.”

“Ha!” Brienne shouted at him from the back table, and Jaime shook his head.

“You’re just feeling sorry for yourself.”

Jon was not sympathetic either and tore into Theon. “Poor you. Is that why you sleep around like a two dollar whore? Rumor has it you’ve banged every girl in this school.”

Theon felt a red hue forming across his face. “Like you said... _rumor_ has it.”

“Right. So I guess you’re actually a virgin. Never copped a feel before? Engaged in some nipple play? Or slid your digits inside of a girl’s hot, wet-“

“Hey! Cool it. There’s a lady here.” Jaime looked back towards Brienne. She seemed more curious than offended and not interested in having her honor defended by the likes of Jaime Lannister.

Jon rolled his eyes. “Calm down, golden boy. You’re a wrestler, right? You probably get off from rolling around on the floor with other guys. Maybe there’s even something going on between you two. Is that it, Greyjoy? You’d rather have a hot beef injection? Of the Lannister variety?”

And before anyone could see it coming, Jaime had Jon pinned on the ground with his arm twisted behind his back. “Why do you give a fuck about who he’s fucking?”

Jon’s head was turned to the side, and he spoke through gritted teeth. “I don’t care who he’s fucking. I just think he’s a liar. I mean, everything about him is fake. He’s a total cliché.”

“Shut up!” Theon wasn’t used to being questioned or attacked. What did he ever do to this fuckwad? The guy had him all wrong. Theon couldn’t control the narrative that was out there, that somehow news of his well-endowed anatomy had traveled far and wide.

Except when Jon was back on his feet and glaring at Theon menacingly, it was like he could see everything. He somehow knew that Theon was as ordinary as they came and afraid of amounting to nothing. Of being a disappointing nobody.

Fuck, he hated being found out.


	3. Chapter 3

_**The Vending Machine** _

“Well, congratulations. You made it to lunch time. Give yourselves a hand.” Mr. Thorne started a slow clap, and Podrick joined in briefly but stopped when he noticed that no one else was playing along.

Jaime grabbed his lunch bag. _Finally_ , he thought to himself, _a chance to breathe_. It was fucking with his head to be stuck in the library all day when he needed to be at the gym. Besides, these people were pretty intense.

“You have thirty minutes. Eat up.”

“Wait. In here?”

“That’s right, Mr. Lannister.”

“But I thought we’d eat lunch in the cafeteria. What about something to drink?”

“Well, what a great idea. Thanks for volunteering, champ. Why don’t you go to the teachers lounge and fetch sodas for everyone?”

“But, sir. I’ll need help carrying them.” Jaime nodded his head in Theon’s direction.

“Hmmm.” Mr. Thorne was looking towards Brienne. “She’ll be just fine for the job. Hey, you there! Wake up! Go help our champion wrestler with the sodas.”

— — — — —

Jaime wondered if Brienne was wearing any armor today, underneath those multiple layers of dark fabric. Or maybe a chastity belt. He didn’t know much about her, only that her father was a military commander and that she was a bit eccentric.

They were walking towards the teachers lounge, but Brienne was trailing behind him at a snails pace. He stopped so she could catch up. “Aren’t you warm with all those sweaters on?”

She threw him a look as if English wasn’t her first language and then rolled her eyes. He thought maybe her eyes were blue, but there was so much black eyeliner caked around them, he couldn’t be sure.

“I’m fine. Don’t you worry about me.”

It was the first time he’d really heard her speak. Her voice was softer than what he expected.

“Just making conversation.”

“Fascinating. So...tell me why you’re here today.”

“Oh. Um, because my father and my coach thought it would be a good idea. A real character-building experience.”

“Uh-huh.”

“You know how it is, everyone trying to make decisions for you, controlling your every move.”

Jaime opened the door to the lounge and motioned for Brienne to pass in front him. She obliged but turned to watch him over her shoulder, lest he try to check her out.

“That’s a neat story, champ. But why are you really here?”

“Just...never mind. What’s your poison?”

“My poison?”

“I was gonna guess Diet Coke...”

“Maybe if you mix it with some rum.”

“Rum?”

“Yeah...anything to get a buzz.” Brienne was leaning into the side of the vending machine and laughing to herself.

Jaime couldn’t tear his gaze away from her. She was probably the most bizarre person he had ever met. He wouldn’t have given her a second thought on any other day. So what was special about today?

**_The Meal_ **

Now that everyone had their sodas, it was time for Jon to start ridiculing people for what they’d brought for lunch. Theon knew it was coming as soon as he set out his tray of sushi. Podrick had to be next.

“Did your mommy pack you something tasty?”

“Just some soup and a-“

“Peanut butter and jelly sandwich with the crusts cut off. Isn’t that swell?”

Pod wished he could sink into the ground as Jon drew smiles from the rest of the group, enacting the perfect life in the Payne household. But it was far from perfect, and Jaime could see as much from the expression on Pod’s face.

“What about you, Snow? Being related to the Starks and all, you must have it pretty good.”

“Of course. The Starks have me over for dinner at least once a week. Isn’t that right, Greyjoy? That’s where you spend a lot of your free time.”

Theon didn’t know what to say, or where Jon was going with this. He shrugged his shoulders.

“No, I’m not welcome in the Stark home. Besides, why would I ever want to be away from my foster dad? He even has an affectionate nickname for me. Anyone want to guess what it is? Anyone?”

The room was silent.

“No? Okay, I’ll tell you. He calls me _bastard_. Brilliant, isn’t it?”

“C’mon, Snow. Everyone’s parents say shit like that.”

“Well then, how about this? Take a look.” Jon walked within a few inches of Jaime and pulled off his glove, waving his hand directly in front of Jaime’s face.

“That son of a bitch took the skin right off my knuckles. To teach me a lesson about obeying his orders.”

Jaime turned away as the others let out a gasp. Jon headed for another part of the library, screaming into the air and knocking books onto the floor.

Theon almost got up to check on him but figured that Jon needed some space. He turned to Jaime. “You shouldn’t have said anything.”

“How was I supposed to know? He seems pretty full of shit.”

”Guess not.”


	4. Chapter 4

_**The Fall Guy** _

Maybe it was sheer boredom that led them to take a group field trip to Jon’s locker. Or maybe they were starting to tolerate each other. But mostly it was because Jon had promised them all a surprise. He seemed relieved to focus on something other than his shitty family situation.

Theon was watching everyone’s reactions. He could tell that Jaime was disappointed when Jon pulled the bag of weed out of his locker. But what was he expecting? A protein shake? The look on Pod’s face was already priceless and then Jon told him to stuff the baggie down his shorts. Theon couldn’t tell if Brienne was intrigued or horrified. She was a tough nut to crack.

They’d started back to the library and then realized Mr. Thorne was meandering through the hallways, seemingly as bored as they were, but in any event, they’d all be spending several Saturdays with him if they got caught.

Jaime accidentally led the group into a gated hallway, refusing to trust Jon’s suggestion that they cut through the cafeteria. Then Jon had graciously sacrificed himself for the rest of the group, drawing Mr. Thorne towards his melodious voice and away from everyone else.

“The bear, the bear, the maiden fair.”

Jon’s off-key singing carried through the hallways and into the library where everyone now sat anxiously, waiting for Mr. Thorne to catch Jon and administer some form of severe punishment. Theon felt especially nervous for him, although it was Jon’s idea in the first place.

Suddenly, Mr. Thorne burst into the library, shoving Jon towards the table he had occupied and yelling words like _worthless_ , _pathetic_ , and _piece of human garbage._

“Get your things, Snow. You have lost the right to be around others. Better to isolate you before your brand of sociopath infects anyone else.”

“Oh, I don’t know, sir. I think my _brand_ is on the rise.”

Jaime snickered, which was more of a nervous reaction versus finding Jon particularly amusing. Part of him wished he could talk back to a tyrant like that. Or at least stand up to his own father once in awhile.

“Something funny, Lannister? You think that Snow has a future in stand-up comedy? I’ll tell you where he’s going. No where. He’s the punchline and the joke. Just wait five years to see where this guy lands. Move, Snow! Now!”

Out of spite, Jon hurried in front of Mr. Thorne towards the library door, and for good measure, when he passed by the front desk of the library, shoved whatever he could onto the floor.

Jon knew where Mr. Thorne was going to take him - the janitor’s overflow closet - so he proceeded in that direction. It wouldn’t be the first time.

“Sit your ass in here until the day is over.”

He was just a few inches from Jon, foaming at the mouth, but Jon wasn’t going to allow Mr. Thorne to provoke him.

“I’m a god around here, Snow. You aren’t even fit to lick my boots, and here you are trying to impress these kids.”

Jon just stared back at him blankly.

“Bastard.”

The word made Jon flinch, and Mr. Thorne was practically giddy. “You wanna hit me, Snow? Go ahead. Because one of these days, you’ll get what’s coming to you. I’ll see to that myself.”

“You can’t threaten me.” Jon felt every muscle in his body start to tense up. He had also just realized that he was sitting against the hilt of a sword that had somehow made its way into the closet. Jon started to slowly inch his hand behind him. Wouldn’t it be glorious to at least scare this fucker with the edge of a sharp blade against his neck, which had the unfortunate job of shouldering his fat, stupid head.

But no. That would mean expulsion and criminal charges. He’d be playing into Thorne’s hands. So he let Mr. Thorne have the last word. Cowards like him eventually got what they deserved.

**_The Cover Up_ **

Jon had to get back to his weed, and there was no way he was going to be contained by Mr. Thorne in this hellhole of a room.

It wasn’t exactly his plan to come crashing through the ceiling of the library, but it worked. He’d landed on the upper floor, mostly unscathed and then secured a hiding place under one of the desks, right in front of Theon Greyjoy’s crotch.

A few minutes after Jon’s arrival, Mr. Thorne came barging into the room. “What the hell was that noise?”

While everyone was playing dumb, Jon was trying to get comfortable under the desk and banged his head on it. Jaime started making a tapping noise on the top of the desk and the rest of the group followed suit.

“You’re up to something, aren’t you? Podrick Payne...out with it!”

”I don’t know what you’re talking about, sir.”

Jon moved his hand onto Theon’s knee as there was really no other place to put it. He noticed Theon shifting around in his seat, probably as a result of Jon’s hand suddenly on his knee, but then Jon started to look closer, and he noticed a growing bulge between Theon’s legs. Jon started to inch his hand just a little further up and...

“Arrrrgh!”

As Theon clamped Jon’s head between his knees, he made a retching sound to cover up Jon’s reaction, and the others started coughing.

Mr. Thorne threw up his hands in disgust. “I’ll get to the bottom of this. Mark my words.”

After he was gone, Theon pushed his chair back abruptly as the others watched Jon emerge from beneath the desk.

“What the fuck, Snow?”

Jon put his hands up in the air with an innocent grin across his face.

“I’ve never been that close to a legend before. Sorry, man. It was an accident.”


	5. Chapter 5

_**The Purse** _

Brienne watched intently as they each followed Jon Snow like sheep to the slaughter, one after the other. At first, Jaime seemed opposed to the idea of smoking up, but once the others were in, it didn’t take him very long to cave.

Still seated at her desk, Brienne quietly observed them rolling multiple joints and then smoking. With their inhibitions lowered and their guards down, they laughed freely with one another - Jon, Theon, and Podrick chattering away about absolutely nothing of substance. And Jaime was on the second floor of the library, unleashing some pent up rage, pretending to fence a phantom menace, combined with some strange dance moves and then a final battle cry that shattered the glass door of the language lab. _Sheep._

At some point, Jon and Theon became occupied with inspecting the contents of each other’s wallets, so Brienne decided to join Podrick and Jaime on the couches.

“Wanna see what’s in my bag?”

“No.” They were both shaking their heads in unison as she proceeded to empty the contents of her grey leather purse in front of them.

“What is all this shit?” Podrick picked up a random pen from the pile and began poking through the remainder of the contents - articles of clothing, oodles of feminine hygiene products, other unidentifiable objects, and a few MREs. “But...why do you have all of this?”

“In case I need to get the hell out of dodge. We move a lot. I’m a military brat. And you know...in general...my home life...is unsatisfying.”

Jaime was surprised to see her opening up this much, so he regretted what came out of his mouth next. “Yeah, I think probably everyone’s home life sucks. What makes you so special?”

She was up in a flash, retreating to a quiet section of the library, her face buried in her hands. He followed her as Podrick continued to look puzzled.

“Hey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to-“

“Save it, meathead. I don’t need your pity. You’re the one who can’t think for himself. Baaaaa!”

“Okay, but you’re the one who came over and dumped your shit out for everyone to see. So what is it? What’s the matter?”

She was glaring back at him, her chest heaving with rapid breaths, and Jaime could almost feel the sting of proverbial daggers she was throwing at him with her eyes.

“Is it bad? Your folks? What did they do to you?”

When Brienne realized that tears were forming in his eyes and that his concern was genuine, she softened. “My father...doesn’t see me for who I am. He doesn’t want to. I’m a disappointment because...I’m not a boy. And my mother died before he had another chance for a child who was worth something.”

She sobbed quietly but turned away before he could console her.

**_The Confession_ **

Amazingly, Mr. Thorne had not made another appearance that afternoon, probably because he assumed Jon was still in his make-shift cell, so there was no one worth humiliating in front of the rest of the group.

They were now congregated in a circle, slowly coming down from their high. Brienne had just convinced everyone that she was a nymphomaniac, which led her and the rest of the group to pressure Theon into admitting he was a virgin. Jon looked rather pleased with the outcome, watching Theon squirm with embarrassment.

“I was sure you were banging my sister.” Jaime pounded the floor in disbelief. “And at least half the girls at this school.”

“Yeah, well, I think it’s pretty fucked up that Brienne had us all convinced she’s been having sex with her guidance counselor.”

“Oh, you can bet Mr. Baelish would be willing. But what’s the big deal? So I told a lie.”

“Yeah, well, I think you’re pretty fucking weird.”

Jaime came to her defense. “You’re just mad she got information out of you. And aren't  we all a little messed up? I know I am.”

“How so?”

“He lets everyone else make decisions for him.” Brienne had her arms wrapped in front of her knees and was rocking back and forth, encouraging Jaime with her eyes to speak up.

“She’s right. I bet none of you have any idea why I’m in detention. Do you?”

No one responded, but he had their attention, so he continued.

“It’s because I...taped Sam Tarly’s buns together. Do you guys know Sam?”

A laugh escaped Theon’s lips as Podrick’s mouth flew open. “I know him. That was you?”

“Yeah. And the sick part is that I did it for my father. He hates weakness, and I thought it would prove to him that I do too. You know, Sam is just the epitome of helpless and oathetic. That’s what I thought in the moment anyway.”

Tears were slowly spilling from his eyes, but Jaime pushed on. “So afterwards, I’m sitting in Thorne’s office, waiting for my dad to pick me up, feeling proud of myself for less than a minute when I hear that some of Sam’s skin was damaged when they removed the tape, and then I’m trying to imagine the humiliation Sam’s going to experience when his own father finds out what I did to him. I mean, how can I ever apologize for something like that? And you know what? My father wasn’t impressed. Trophies and awards don’t do it either. I’m done trying to please him.”

Jon, feeling a pang of sympathy for someone he ordinarily loathed, tried to lighten the mood. “Your old man and my foster dad should go bowling sometime.”


End file.
